


The Boy

by teddyprince



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddyprince/pseuds/teddyprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brooke Moriarty has had a troubled childhood, until his father found Sherlock Holmes. The boy was interested in the game, so Jim decided to let him play. But at a bad price. So what happens when Brooke leaves his father, turning to the man he tormented, for help?<br/>(Sorry, still suck at summaries XD<br/>Enjoy!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke meets Sherlock and John at the pool. But as he and his dad are about to leave, things take a turn for the worst.

I sat there, by the poolside, pistol in my jacket. Sherlock was talking to thin air, possibly to dad. Then John walked in, bombs stuck to him. Sherlock thought he was the one behind it, but only for a moment. Only until John revealed the bombs. We fooled Sherlock Holmes. For a few minutes. Well, dad had fooled him much longer. The voice of my dad made me more alert, watching Sherlock.

"I gave you my number, I thought you might call." he called out.

He told me about how he met Sherlock for the first time at Bart's, with Molly. Him playing gay. 

Several minutes passed, maybe around 10, consulting criminal and consulting detective bickering. 

"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes." dad said.

He walked out, leaving me behind. I wasn't sure whether to follow him, so I just stopped sitting down, beside the pool. Sherlock immediately took the jacket off John, throwing it away from them. 

"Do you two want a room or something?" I asked, them looking at me, like they just realised I was there.

They glared at me, as I raised my hands to apologise. No, they weren't angry at me, they wanted to know why I was still there. I shrugged, my jacket almost falling off me. It was two sizes too big for me. Thanks Dad.   
Then I realised. Carl Powers died here. Dad's first kill. I grinned at the thought. Anyone who makes fun of my dad will die by my hand. That's why I had to kill Sherlock.

"Sorry boys, I'm soooo changeable." 

Dad was back. My hand gripped around my gun as Sherlock pointed his at dad, then the jacket on the floor. He was about to set it off, when dad's phone rang. He answered it, as I put my phone behind my back. I made an automated message Sebastian made play to him. 

"Sorry, wrong day to die." dad said, starting to walk out.

Should I follow him? No, keep and eye on Sherly and Johnnyboy. But I couldn't, as they walked out. I got up, dusting myself off. I began to run after dad, before catching up with him. He was off they phone. 

"What took you so long?" he asked, anger in his voice. 

"You told me to keep an eye on them if you had to go!"

"Whatever. Just get in." he said, as I was shoved into the car. 

He got in the other side, as we began to drive off.   
I don't know if I can forgive him for using me as a piece in his games, almost blowing me up if Sherlock didn't solve the fake painting. But I have to. Or he'll murder me. I put a hand in my pocket, feeling a small piece of paper. I pull it out, seeing it as a photo. A photo of me and dad. Before his business meant more than me. Before he hated me.   
I heard a gunshot as the front car window smashed. I ducked down, as the driver fell on the wheel. My door opened, as I was dragged out, leaving dad in the car. I tried screaming for him, but he was already unconscious. They threw me into the back of a van, closing and locking the door. I felt the van move, as I was jolted backwards.   
My name is Brooke James Moriarty, and this is how it started.


	2. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke's been kidnapped, and Jim can't be arsed to save him. So thank God for Sebastian Moran.

I banged on the side of the van, trying to get their attention.

"Let me go you freaks!" I shouted, as no-one listened.

I slumped into the corner, burying my head into my knees, sobbing. Who were these people? What did they want with a 6 year old boy? They were probably with Sherlock. He possibly payed them to get e to him. The van stopped, as I heard the front doors open and close. I heard footsteps moving around the van, as they opened the back doors. I jumped up, trying to run out, but they stopped me, grabbing me, making my gun clatter on the floor. The one holding me grinned, as they began walking to a house. The house was wooden, old and battered, with wooden planks across shattered windows. I struggled against my captor, only to be shaken, a signal to stop. We walked in, as the other man shut and bolted the door. I was paralysed with fear, as they began to make their way up the stairs, as we all heard a banging against the door. It crashed down, a tall silhoutte standing by it.   
Sebastian Moran.

"You let my boy go!" He shouted, as the man holding me bolted up the stairs.

We heard groan of pain, as he made his way into the attic. No, the roof.  
As soon as we got to the roof, the man ran to the ledge, standing with his back to it, holding me, making me face where Seb would pop up. As soon as we did, Seb popped up, bloody, anger visible.

"You let him go! Now!" He said, beginning to walk towards us.

"Ah ah ah. One more step, Mr Moran, and me and the boy both fall to our deaths."

"You're insane!"

"And you aren't?"

"No! I'm not the one who kidnaps 6 year old boys to get to their father!" 

"But that's where you're wrong, Mr Moran. We're not after Jim Moriarty. We need Sherlock Holmes." 

I was shocked, I must admit. They wanted Sherlock? Surely they could just go to Baker Street. No, they were criminals.

"And how do you plan to get to him?"  
Seb asked, his hand reaching behind him.

"You'll see."

"See what?"

The man grinned, leaning backwards. I tried to pull him forward, but it was too late. We were falls backwards off a three story building, with nothing but concrete to break the fall. And we were most certainly heading towards death. But was /I/?


	3. Help or No Help?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke thinks he's dead, but he's not. He doesn't want to help them, but Sherlock and John need him. And Moriarty isn't so happy about that.

I woke up with a searing pain in my head and back. I was lying on a sofa, a soft one. Which was good for my back to be honest. I rubbed my eyes, as they were filled with that sleep dust. I heard someone walk in. It was a woman.

"Oh you're awake. Sherlock will be pleased." she said, placing a tray of tea on the table.

"S-S-Sherlock?" I stutter. 

"Yes, don't you remember what happened to you?" she asked.

I tried to remember, but nothing came to my mind.

"You fell off a four story building along with another man. You were lucky you landed on him. He died instantly. Sebastian Moran brought you here. John fixed you up. He said you still need a bit of recovery time." she told me, me just nodding.

"Who are you?" I asked, not remembering if dad mentioned her.

"I'm Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and John's landlady." she said.

I remembered her now. 

"Where are Sherlock and John?" 

"They're out at the shop. Always running out of milk those two are." 

I laughed a little.  
Wait. Seb brought me here.  
Seb.

"Where did Seb go after he brought me here?"

"I can't remember dear, I think he said he had to dash off home."

I nodded. I knew he had to. Couldn't leave his poor boyfriend alone too long.  
As much as dad hated me sometimes, he still loved me in his own way. His own way trying to make me take after him if he dies. I wanna join the army really. Ever since I heard Sebby was in it.  
My thoughts were cut off by a loud knock at the door. Mrs. Hudson walked down to answer it.  
A few minutes later, Seb ran up the stairs, running to me. I wrapped my arms around him, as he leant his head on mine.

"I'm sorry Brooke, I'm so so sorry." he said.

"It's not your fault Pops, it's the man that pushed us off."

"I couldn't get there sooner though."

"I could've sorted them out." 

"Suppose you could've."

"But best leave the best man to it, eh?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He nods, pulling away. 

"Dad's been missin' ya." he said, smiling slightly.

I grin. He holds his hand out. He opens it, some dog tags in his hand. 

"A reminder of your bravery." he says.

"Pops I ain't brave! You are, I'm just a sissy." I look down at my legs.

"When you were falling, I didn't hear YOU screech. I heard the man screech."

I stare at him, before grinning. He puts the dog tags around my neck, smiling.

"Gotta go, your dad doesn't actually know you're here. Told him you were at Gramma's." he laughs a little.

"Aww. When will I see you next?" 

He gulped. 

"Soon. Ok?" he said.

I nodded, smiling. He gets up, walking out, leaving me and Mrs. Hudson alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Was so busy! Will try and do the chapters more often now, I promise. Yeah, break up from school on Friday, so I will be updating this more often. Hope you like this story, I've been meaning to put it up for ages. So yeah, hope you like it!


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